


A Love Most Unorthodox

by Anonymous



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alpha Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Alpha Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - College/University, Friendship, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Misunderstandings, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Not Beta Read, Omega GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Scenting, Slow Burn, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:35:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27251317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: The beta blinks, then says, “uh,” then sticks out his hand and says, “George.”Dream shakes his hand. “Dream.”George smiles then, a quiet, understated thing.Dream smiles back before replying: “Woodworth Hall. Room 1038. See you around, George.”George nods his head, giving one final smile then rushing off towards the double doors on the other side of the student union. Dream watches him go, and he keeps his eyes on the doors long after the other has disappeared into the night. No scent lingers, the neutral ones always disappearing just nanoseconds after a beta leaves, but Dream feels marked somehow, as if in shaking George’s hand he made a pact, some promise only breakable in extreme circumstance. He huffs a laugh.He didn’t make any promises. He’s just being stupid.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 180
Collections: Anonymous





	A Love Most Unorthodox

**Author's Note:**

> here it is! the semi-promised full dream team abo fic. :) i hope you guys like it.
> 
> i was tempted to cut the omega george tag out considering the summary, but i also had the misunderstandings tag and i thought about how if i added the omega george tag in the future, new readers wouldn't have the same experience, so i just left it as is. the tags are susceptible to change though! especially the last one. there's going to be a masturbation scene in a few chapters, and there are also discussions of heats and ruts throughout the fic, so keep that in mind! for the fic with the masturbation scene, i'll go ahead and put a warning in the author's note at the beginning of that chapter. :)
> 
> each chapter was supposed to be 5k with 15 chapters in total, but that'd give me major burn-out, so i'm just going to post a new chapter whenever i feel one has ended. so now i don't know how many chapters there will be, nor what the final word count will be. sorry!
> 
> anyway, i hope you guys like this fic! i've never written abo prior to this series, but i'm trying my best, hahaha :) enjoy!

There’s not much to be said about the city Dream lives in. It’s an average college town, a slouching thing—formed by too many alphas then the sudden introduction of softer omega hands and the clinical ones of betas. Across from the school sits a gas station, a lighthouse for students coming back from the holidays, an unspoken rite of passage for students arriving for their first semester away from home. He’s at the gas station, leaning against the side of his car as Sapnap, fellow alpha and friend of a good ten years, gets junk snacks for their dorm, when he spies someone on the other side of the pump. They lock eyes, pure accident, but Dream nods his head in a polite greeting. The other looks at him for another second before turning away. Dream frowns, perturbed, but says nothing—not his fault someone’s in a bitchy mood.

The nozzle jumps, Sapnap returns to the car with two shopping bags, and the car on the other side of the pump drives off. Dream puts the nozzle back into its slot, screws the gas cap back into place, slams the little door shut, then climbs back into the car, starting it up as Sapnap begins to list all that he bought.

“Also,” he says once he sets the bags on the floor, “I’m not going through my ruts this semester.” He rummages back in the bags and pulls out some protein bars and Gatorade and waters. “These are all for you, dude.”

Dream nods, working the logistics out in his head as he turns into campus. “What for, though?”

“Dude,” Sapnap says, urgent, “I have _so_ many labs this semester; it’s not even funny. The lab and the library are about to be my best friends, I swear.”

Dream laughs, pulling into the parking lot for their dorm and turning off the engine. “Great. More room for me.”

“Yeah because they give us so much room.” Sapnap grabs the bags off the floor while Dream locks the car. “But you’re okay with that, really?”

“It’s your call,” Dream replies. “Want me to quit mine in solidarity?”

“Ha _ha_ ,” Sapnap says. “Absolutely pissing myself from how funny that was.”

Dream ducks his head, faux humility, as the two settle into silence as they make their way down the hall to their room.

It’s a co-ed dorm, comprised of alphas and betas on alternating floors, and the pheromones of fifty new alphas on their floor has the two’s noses scrunching. “Someone hasn’t bought their blockers yet,” Sapnap says.

“A lot of someone’s,” Dream agrees, stepping through the door once Sapnap’s got it unlocked. The minute they get the door shut and locked behind them they let out twin breaths of relief, away from the stench of so many other unmated alphas. Blockers aren’t actually required, but they are preferred by most university students, the result of living in close quarters with a bunch of other hormonal young adults, and the want to not have distractions or constant headaches. For a moment, anyone and everyone can masquerade as a beta.

Sapnap collapses onto his bed, letting out a long breath. “I haven’t even been assigned anything, and I’m already exhausted.”

“How healthy do you think it is that we associate where we sleep and are meant to relax with work, work, and more work?” Dream sets out the few notebooks he bought and the packs of pens whose caps he can’t wait to chew through before leaning against the desk to watch his friend as he throws an arm over his eyes and groans.

“Unhealthy AF.” Sapnap lowers his arm. “We’re going to die here.”

Dream scoffs. “We’re not going to die.”

"Oh yeah?” Sapnap asks. “Then explain why we can only afford high sodium foods, get only about two hours of sleep because of work despite the recommended eight hours, and why we’re expected to stay awake the entire next day through any means necessary—”

“Which is caffeine,” Dream agrees, crossing his arms over his chest. “You know we could all say we’re drug addicts?”

“Are you a drug addict, Dream?” Sapnap asks, sitting up, palms pressing flat to the bed behind him.

Dream shakes his head. “Don’t like coffee. Don’t drink tea.”

“Sugar?” Sapnap falls back onto his bed.

Dream nods, finally pushing himself away from the desk to put up their groceries. “I’ll take it.”

“That’s so disgusting,” Sapnap says. “This should be illegal.”

“Lots of complaining,” Dream notes, putting the waters and Gatorades, then Red Bulls and Cokes into their fridge. “You okay?”

“It’s the stupid suppressants,” Sapnap replies, rolling over to press his face into his pillow. When he speaks again, his words come out muffled: “My hormones are all out of whack. _Disgusting._ ”

When Dream returns to his side of the room, he gives a consoling pat to the other’s ankle which hangs limply off the bed. “Happens to the best of us, bud.”

“And I am,” Sapnap agrees. “The best of us.”

Dream nods, surveying the room before taking a seat on his own bed. The bed springs creak under his weight, and Dream bites back a grimace. College beds are the worst. He wonders if he could propose them bunking their beds since Sapnap won’t be spending that much time in their room—they could free up some floor space—but then he thinks about rut and the idea of Sapnap coming in and him swiping at his ankles makes him squeeze his eyes shut and then lean forward to tug off his shoes and climb under the covers, socked feet first, then jean-clad legs, then finally a pull of the blankets up to his chest, only the thin layer of his cheap polyester t-shirt between him and the sheets. It’s only a couple hours after mid-day, dinner still ahead of them, but the sunlight falls across his face through the blinds with the most subtle warmth and Sapnap’s breathing is just on the right side of relaxing, and Dream finds himself caught in the space between wakefulness and sleep, content to rest in that murky depth.

* * *

“Shit,” Sapnap says, Dream jerking upright at the sound, eyes wide and alert, heart pounding, “we missed dinner by, like, thirty minutes.”

“Shit,” Dream agrees. He angles himself out of bed, leaning over to get his tennis shoes back on. “Student union?”

Sapnap nods, and together they head out of their dorm.

The cafeteria stops serving food at 7:30 p.m., straight up closes at 8 p.m., and by now the hands on the clock back in their dorm have definitely reached 8:30. Luckily, a couple of the restaurants at the union don’t close until 9, sometimes 10, p.m., and Dream walks down the sidewalk with Sapnap anticipating a sandwich stuffed to the brim with meats, cheeses, and veggies. Cicadas in the trees fill the silence, their singing ringing in Dream’s ears, and the horizon is only a thin strip of orange, overtaken by deep purples, blues. They arrive to the union, and Dream holds open the door as Sapnap heads inside.

Together, they get their food, and they’re about to head back to their dorm when Sapnap makes a face and hands Dream his bag. “Got to go pee. I’ll be right back.”

Dream nods as Sapnap rushes off to the bathroom. In the other’s defense, Dream is still standing in the middle of the walkway, but he still lets out a huff of irritation when someone walks right into him, stumbling back a step then looking up at him with wide eyes. Dream looks back at him, annoyance, he’s sure, clear on his face. The only scent he can pick up is a neutral one that could come from blockers or a beta. With the other’s build, slender, not tall but not that short, Dream can’t be sure which.

“Sorry,” the person says.

“Watch where you’re going,” Dream replies. He looks familiar in a fleeting way, perhaps someone seen in the corner of Dream’s eye, or perhaps a passing stranger, and that’s when Dream remembers: “You’re the guy from the gas station, aren’t you?”

The—Dream’s decided—beta blinks. “What?”

“I saw you at the gas station,” Dream insists. “Pump four. You totally ignored me! Which was rude of you, by the way.”

“I’m new,” the beta says.

“So what, you’re shy?”

The beta nods, though his cheeks have turned a ( _pretty_ , Dream’s sad to note—just his luck he’d maybe be attracted to someone so standoffish) pink.

“A freshman?” Dream asks.

“Uh,” the beta hesitates, “third year.”

“You’re older than me?” Dream gives the beta a solid once-over that has another blush starting, turning his cheeks, nose, and ears a sweet cherry now. He’s also noted the accent that colors the other’s words—British, no doubt about that. “Is it some international program?”

The beta nods. “A deal with my university back in London.” He blinks, then says, “uh,” then sticks out his hand and says, “George.”

Dream shakes his hand. “Dream.”

George smiles then, a quiet, understated thing, and Dream ignores the tightness in his chest—it’s just the thrill of someone new. “I should, um, go,” George says, lips still in a gentle curl. “I’ll… I’ll see you around, Dream.”

Dream smiles back—George’s eyes widen, pretty and round and _so_ dark and deep—before replying: “Woodworth Hall. Room 1038. See you around, George.”

George nods his head, and Dream notes the way his fingers curl tighter around the map’s he’s been holding down at his side, before he gives one final smile and rushes off towards the double doors on the other side of the union. Dream watches him go, and he keeps his eyes on the doors long after the other has disappeared into the night. No scent lingers, the neutral ones always disappearing just nanoseconds after a beta leaves, but Dream feels marked somehow, as if in shaking George’s hand he made a deal, some promise only breakable in extreme circumstance. He huffs a laugh.

He didn’t make any promises. He’s just being stupid.

Sapnap returns moments after, unaware of the meeting that’s just occurred, only sticking a hand out for his bag (their skin doesn’t touch) and giving a pleased hum when the scent of warm food drifts up to his nose.

**Author's Note:**

> that's it for chapter one! sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes i might have made, and sorry if this was out of character; their personalities are oddly hard to pin down. either way, i hope you guys liked it. if you did, maybe leave a kudos and/or comment. thank you for reading. have a good day/night! :)


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